


One Loss, One Win

by genevievequinn



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Always get verbal consent kids, Bottom Christen, Casual Sex, Christen is a soft bean, F/F, One Shot, Top Kelley, not too explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17400962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievequinn/pseuds/genevievequinn
Summary: After Utah Royals FC's loss to Orlando, Christen Press really needs to de-stress, and yoga isn't cutting. Best-friend Kelley O'Hara saves the day, treating her friend to the care she deserves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm high-key obsessed with Christen Press right now. She here's a one-shot I wrote in ten minutes.

Christen has her life together. Usually. Yoga in the morning, mediation, things to keep her grounded and calm. No matter what happens on the field, no matter what happens off the field, she can handle it. Usually. But with Kelley pressed against her, bass vibrating through her body, it’s hard to maintain control. Kelley knows what buttons to push, knows how to move with the music to leave Christen a bubbling mess.   
The loss to Orlando was rough. Fouls called against them, Orlando’s players had been aggressive and pushed the ball hard. She had wanted to beat the team, wanted to prove that her new transfer was worth it. Christen was kicking herself, knowing there were things that she messed up on. She’ll admit, Orlando played well, but with coach getting short with the referees, the crowd overly vocal, and her teammates just as frustrated as coach is, it’s hard not to feel angry. She needed something to clear her head. Something to take her mind of the incredible guilt she was feeling about the whole game. Though Kelley hadn’t played in the game, she had watched, with bated breath, and was no more happy than Christen.

Kelley had suggested the club. She knew Christen liked to dance but had no other idea on what to take her out to do. She wanted to help her relax, and Kelley refused to do yoga with Christen. She was partially surprised when Christen said yes and had quickly left before she could change her mind. At the club, she grabbed Christen a sparkling water before getting some bourbon for herself. Even as high-strung as she is, Christen refuses to drink.  
Now, pressed flush against each other, unable to speak with the music so loud, Christen has to admit, she feels good. She hadn’t been dancing for a while, and she missed the sway of her hips against someone else’s. Granted, she hadn’t planned on it being one of her best friends, but the universe has an odd way of working.   
It’s when Kelley presses a quick, almost chaste, kiss into Christen’s pulse point that she can’t maintain control any longer. She lets out a light groan, probably left unheard by Kelley, and she debates dragging Kelley into the bathroom right now. But that’s not how Christen Press works. She’s a patient person. She can wait. Besides, it’s well known that Kelley is the more sexually provocative of the two, and more apt to go after what she wants. She has no patience.

Another, longer kiss is placed onto Christen’s neck, and she grips a little more tightly to Kelley’s swaying hips. It’s the fact that Press doesn’t push O’Hara away that keeps her going. They had kissed before. They both had experimented in college, and it was hard to find someone with all the traveling with the national team. Comfort was found in the oddest of places, and in this moment, it was found in Kelley O’Hara.  
“Chris,” Kelley shouts in her ear. She would have been a bit more seductive, but it’s hard when the music is so loud. Christen only responds by nuzzling her nose into Kelley’s cheek lightly. Kelley, with no patience left, drags Christen to the bathroom, the only relatively quiet place in the club. There were others in there, some locked into each other as well. Kelley doesn’t want, pushing back against Christen, a brief thought about how dirty the bathroom is crossing her mind.

Its that first touch of lips on lips, the first taste of bourbon on Kelley’s lips that sets Christen on fire. She would never admit her attraction to her fellow teammate, but the feelings are there, always have been. It’s only grown since traveling with the national team together. Kelley takes no time taking control of the kiss, the more demanding of the two women, only more so because of the drink in her veins.  
Christen breaks for a second. “Can we not do this here? A bit too dirty for my taste.”

Kelley laughs before leading her friend out of the club. In the cab, it’s all Christen can do to keep Kelley’s hands off her most sensitive parts. Though flustered and needy, she isn’t going to do anything rash in the back of a city cab, or in the elevator. There, too, Kelley pressed into her, laying lazy kisses onto Christen’s lips. 

Only once inside her hotel room, and once Kelley asked three times if Christen was sure, did she allow Kelley to fully run her hands where she wanted. Her hands first went into Christen’s hair, and with a small yet sharp tug, earned a small whine from the taller woman. Kelley was not patient, but she also knows what her friend needed to feel good. Kelley was by no means rough during sex, but she wasn’t exactly gentle either. Press, usually in control of herself in any situation in her life, hates losing it. There’s a reason she keeps any anger in check on the field, because she feels like letting her emotions loose is giving some control up to the universe. Kelley is one person she usually allows a loss of control around, trusting her with the aftermath of whatever occurs. Kelley knows, and she knows that in this moment, Press can’t keep control of her emotions. She lost control once she stepped into the club.

Kelley’s hands drop lower, skim around Christen’s bare thighs, shown off beautifully from her dress. Her lips remain on Christen’s, unsure if Press really wants to deal with any bruises in the morning. She guides Press to the bed, laying her gently down before working the dress off Christen’s thin frame. As the dress goes flying to the floor somewhere, O’Hara asks as her lips tickle Press’ ear. “How are you doing, Chris?” Christen only hums her response. And although it sounds content enough, and she knows Press doesn’t necessarily like speaking during such activities, she needs some verbal consent. “Words, honey.”   
It takes Christen a minute as Kelley works her ear, but she eventually stutters out her response. “I—I’m good.” Once spoken, Kelley’s hands work around Christen’s now bare body, her well-versed hands making quick work of the star soccer player below her. While Christen doesn’t speak much, Kelley sure does. She’s loud and unapologetic in the bedroom, ask her neighbors. After a long, low groan, Press pops her head up. “How are y-you, Kels?”

Kelley almost laughs, the look in Press’ eyes is so caring and kind. Instead, she smiles softly. “I’m great, Chris. Just relax.”

“But w—” Kelley cuts her off with a kiss, one hand scratching her nails against Christen’s scalp, the other rubbing light circles on her hip. After Kelley moves her lips to Christen’s collarbone, however, her question bubbles right back up. “What about you?” 

“This is about you, Christen.”

“I—”

“I know you don’t want it to be all about you. But you had a hard game. You deserve this.” Christen uses her best puppy-dog eyes on her friend, knowing it has worked in the past. Yet, Kelley stands resolute. “No, Chris. I’ll be fine. Tonight is for you.” The taller woman only succumbs to O’Hara when a thigh is pressed to her core. While sure, Kelley is extremely turned on right now and would love to let Christen do what she wants, she can restrain herself (whereas Christen can hardly hold it in). Christen needs an emotional break. She needs to know that Kelley cares for her and is willing to help her relax without needing reciprocation.

Christen’s eyes flutter closed, her hands gripping Kelley’s shoulders tightly. Although the two of them are on different ends of the pitch, they can read each other from miles away. Every movement, every whimper and whine, Kelley can read Press like a book. She can see every ounce of anxiety and stress melting away from her teammate’s face and body. Although Press would never admit she need help, Kelley knew she was struggling.

Once Kelley’s hand drops to Christen’s core, it doesn’t take long. Press was worked up long ago, and she only need a little shove to send her over the edge. Kelley watches her friend’s face contort in pleasure, her fingers still working around inside of her to draw it out. Kelley has been with many different people, and Christen Press is by far the most composed, beautiful, and quietest person during a climax. All that leaves her lips is Kelley’s name and a whimper at the end. If Kelley didn’t know her very well, she wouldn’t think she climaxed at all.

Still entirely composed and her breathing back to normal, she opens her eyes into Kelley’s, hovering above her. Slightly dazed, she places both of her hands on Kelley’s face. “You are a blessing,” she whispers. Pulling Kelley into her chest, she is completely content to cuddle until the morning light. Then, she will force Kelley to get up and do sunrise meditation with her.


	2. Working on It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley is doing her best to get Christen to talk to her about things that are bothering her, but it's more difficult than it seems.

“Four assists, Pressy.”   
Christen Press glanced up from her footwork drills to make eye contact with Kelley O’Hara. Smiling gently, she shrugs, “It was nothing.”  
“Nothing? Chris, Belgium didn’t know what hit them! You laid perfect balls in all night. It was not nothing.”  
“Kels, just let it drop. Thanks for the compliment, but I’m still not going to start the next match, so what does it matter?”  
Kelley’s ball stops dead, hands on her hips. “Christen. Is that what this is really about?”  
“What else would it be about?” Christen snaps, instantly following with, “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…frustrated.”  
The two women finish with the footwork drill, now into a one vs. one practice set. “Of course, and you deserve a start just as much, if not more, than the starters now. But don’t degrade your own work just because a certain coach can’t see your effort.” Kelley, distracted, lets a ball between her feet. “Press, I’m just saying—”  
“I know what you’re saying, Kelley.”  
“You did amazing.”  
“Kelley—”  
“You really did. You—”  
“Stop. Kelley, please.”  
The two work through practice without further discussion, O’Hara dropping the topic. For the time being. Kelley O’Hara is not one to drop subjects just because it makes someone uncomfortable, and she will not let Christen believe that her value to the team is contingent upon her scoring goals. As a forward turned defender, Kelley knows there is more to a team than those who take shots and make the front-page news. She’ll allow Press her silence for now.   
After changing in the locker room, Kelley loops her arm with Christen’s, bouncing out towards the parking lot with her. “So what are we doing tonight?”  
“We?” Christen scoffs. “That’s the third night this week! I was kind of hoping for some down time, you know?”  
Kelley, never perturbed by anything, simply states, “So we will order take-out, watch some Gossip Girl, drink some wine…great down time.”  
“Kels,” Christen looks on the brink of arguing, but instead nods. “Alright. But in the morning—”  
“You expect sunrise meditation. I know, we’ve done this deal before. I got it.”  
“Fine. What kind of take-out?”   
They settle on a Korean place just down the road, Kelley just accepting whatever Christen wanted. After dishing up some plates, the two settle on the couch, glasses in hand, Netflix at the ready. “Christen…” The tone in Kelley’s voice forces Christen to look up from the plate of noodles she was shoving around. Kelley can see her throat work as she swallows, and debates one final time with herself whether this is worth fighting over. “Chris, we need to talk about this.”  
Christen sighs, looking away towards the waiting TV screen. “What? Gossip Girl? I can handle watching—”  
“Christen, stop stalling.”  
“I don’t want to talk about it.”   
“Well, we’re going to.”  
Christen meets her eye again, her own slightly ablaze. “Yeah? And why is it that you get to always decide when we talk about things? Can’t you just let it go?”  
“No! Christen, I can see it eating you up inside, and I—”  
“Kelley, I swear I’m fine. Let it go.”   
Kelley takes a long sip of wine. “Christen, we both know if I didn’t force you to talk to me about things, you would never face them head on.”  
Christen turns away from Kelley, moving to stand. “Thanks for coming Kelley, but I think it’s time for you to go.”  
Kelley stands as well. “No.”  
Kelley could almost see Christen growing more tense and frustrated with each word out of Kelley’s mouth. “Kelley Maureen O’Hara, you get out of my house.”  
“Why are you so reluctant to talk to me about this?”  
“Regardless of the topic, though the topic is not appealing, I’m more upset at the fact that you think you can tell me when to talk to you about things. I will talk to you when I’m good and ready!”  
Kelley steps close to Christen, who similarly steps back. “I am sorry if how I express my concern offends you, but you have to look at it from my point of view. I’m only trying to help.” She reaches out, taking Christen’s hand. “Please, Chris. Talk to me.”  
Christen sighs, hardly able to resist Kelley for long. Glancing up before keeping her eyes glued to the floor, Christen says, “I…I just…”  
“Shhh…” Kelley is now fully in front of Christen, one hand in her hair, the other holding her hand. “I know it’s tough.” She places a soft kiss on her cheek. “Come sit down.”   
Snuggling into Kelley’s chest, Christen’s shoulders soften ever so slightly. Netflix is turned on, (now cold) food is eaten, and wine is drank (except Christen had sparkling grape juice). By the time Netflix was asking if they were still watching, the two were lazily kissing.   
“Chris.” After a recognition hum, “Chris, let’s move to the—”  
“No.”  
Kelley halted, stunned. Not bad stunned, just…stunned. Christen had been more aggressive all night, taking more control while kissing, but rarely, extremely rarely does she flat-out tell Kelley O’Hara of all people no. Christen continued regardless, pushing Kelley onto her back. “Chris, are you alright?”   
In between nibbles on Kelley’s ear, Press replies, “Why would I not be?”  
“Well, you know,” Kelley tries pushing Christen back just a bit, “you just seem a bit…well…” Christen takes a bite out of Kelley’s shoulder, causing her to sit up and fully push Press back. “You don’t bite, Chris.”   
“So what?”  
“So? So? Chris, something is seriously wrong.”  
“No. Kelley, nothing is wrong.”  
Kelley, though it was quite a struggle, gets out from under Press and is back on top, where she belongs. Pressing a leg to her core and running her hands up her torso, Kelley can feel the bravado from before slipping away from Christen. To her best effort, Christen tries to remain firm, hoping she can avoid the sway Kelley usually holds over her. “How about…” Kelley starts peeling Christin’s shirt up her body, laying a few kisses over her rib cage, “you tell me what’s bothering you.”   
“Or how about,” Christen responds after a strained groan, “we put that aside and focus on what’s really important?”  
Kelley is amazing at holding her ground, against really anyone. But when Press gives her that look, and her lip quivers slightly, she’s putty in Christen’s hands. She could ask for the world to burn and Kelley would do it in an instant. She eventually caves, giving in to the only thing, the only person, that keeps her grounded.  
\------------------  
Waking up the next morning, Christen lifts her head to see Kelley sprawled across her, between her legs, Kelley’s head on Christen’s stomach. They stayed on the couch all night, and the two will feel that later at practice. Sighing, she tries to gently wake Kelley up. She promised sunrise meditation and Christen is not going to let her get away without it. With a cute yawn and a little stretch, Kelley opens her eyes into Christen’s.  
“Good morning,” she mumbles, kissing Christen’s stomach.   
“Morning.” Christen starts sitting up, trying to be gentle with the newly awoken princess. “Time to get up.”  
“Chris…” Kelley groans.  
“Nope. You promised. Come on, we can do it on the deck.”  
After the promise of coffee and pancakes after, Press convinces Kelley to meditate with her, or at least pretend to; and for the next few hours, Christen dodges another conversation about the national team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have finals to study for? Yes. Do I have other unfinished works? Yes. Am I going to procrastinate by writing about O'Press? Absolutely.


End file.
